


Growing Up Scamander

by PinkPunk010



Series: When It Rains [5]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Childhood, Growing Up, Scamander Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-09
Updated: 2017-07-09
Packaged: 2018-11-30 01:40:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11453346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PinkPunk010/pseuds/PinkPunk010
Summary: Being the daughter of a world-renowned magizoologist and an auror made for an interesting conversation starter.It could, however, be an incredibly awkward and inconvenient surname to have, when one is trying to make their own path in the world.(or the story of Newt and Tina's daughter)





	Growing Up Scamander

Being the daughter of a world-renowned magizoologist and an auror made for an interesting conversation starter. Sometimes, quite frequently in the magical world in fact, people would hear her surname and instantly start quizzing her on magical creatures. It got old quick, as Uncle Jacob would likely have said. Her Kowalski cousins were much better off, not needing to patiently explain that _yes_ she had been to different parts of the world, and _no_ she wasn’t interested in magical creatures in the same way as her father. 

No one in the world was as interested in magical creatures as her father. It would be impossible to ever try matching one Newt Scamander for passion. Instead, she’d shrug in response to the inevitable question of “what was it like growing up as a Scamander?” and offer a vague answer that they wanted to hear, about how exciting it was to be surrounded by magical creatures. In reality, it was simply _normal_. She had learnt to walk holding onto the long pale fur of Dougal, their demiguise. She had chased the niffler and rolled around with direcrawls, laughing in delight as they popped in and out of existence. Her pet was a kneazle she had helped deliver aged ten. When she arrived home, she would drop into her fathers suitcase and say hello to the family she couldn’t write letters to. 

Leaving for Hogwarts, aged eleven, had been hard. Her world had been more magical than most. She’d been more interested in the plants they picked up places. Her younger brother had found he was as enamoured with the creatures as their father. Her elder brother dreamt of being a healer, after watching their mother fix up their father in the middle of the Arabian desert without batting an eyelid, a constant stream of scolding. Honestly, dad had been more trouble than all three of the children put together. 

Her childhood had been spent across countries, hiking mountains and sleeping in the case while her parents trekked on, curled up with beasts of various sizes. She had grown up with her brothers, their chores including feeding grindylow and checking the niffler hadn’t escaped. 

They had lived in a small cottage in Dorset, barely big enough for the five of them. They’d listened with glee at mum and dad bickering over schedules and battles and whose turn it was to owl grandmama. They’d spent days sat at their mothers feet, drawing dragons in books as she worked her way through files at the ministry. 

A snotty nosed ministry employee had once told their mum that the auror office was not a nursery. She’d never forget the way her mother had smiled, sickeningly sweet, before saying offhandedly, “then why are you here Higgins? At least my children stay out of trouble, more than can be said for you.” The man had turned purple, before turning and walking off. Mum had leant down, levelling each of her children with a stern eye, informing them that if they put a toe out of line in the auror office, they would never be allowed back. 

Sometimes, at the auror office, they would watch, wide-eyed as a patronus landed gracefully on a desk, announcing something before the entire office would scramble for their dragonhide coats and fixing wands to their wrists. And in the middle of it all, their mother would stand, issuing directions and orders without a thought. And everyone would listen carefully, nodding before disappearing. Then she would turn to those who stayed behind, and warn those that she had faced Grindlewald and survived, so if anything happened to her children while she was gone, they should be aware of what was coming. Then she’d kiss them all goodbye and vanish off to fight. 

On those days, the auror office wasn’t quite so fun, there was tangible anxiety even as they tried to play a game of gobstones to pass the time. Sometimes she would tell her brother stories, weaving impossible tales of daring, their mother always the heroine, their father always at her side. Sometimes it even worked. 

As she’d grown older, she’d noticed how much her father hated the attention they received on the streets of Diagon Alley, how he preferred the anonymity of the muggle world. She’d watch her mother take a very deep, steadying breath, her hand resting gently on dad’s back as he struggled his way through talking to a fan. Occasionally, someone would see mum, see mum and thank her profusely for her role in stopping Grindlewald, in her role in the muggle war, shake her hand. Mum hated it as much as dad did. 

Her elder brother was better at dealing with the attention than she and their younger brother were. He hated the pressure that was associated with the Scamander name, but he had a soothing, calming presence that simply couldn’t be riled easily. She was made more like mum. She had a tendency to act first, think later – especially when someone was in trouble. Her younger brother was much like dad. Their childhood had been spent with calm, collected Corvin pulling the pair away from trouble. 

Their best friends had been their cousins. Their backyard had been a suitcase full of magical creatures. Their daycare had been the auror office and their weekends spent travelling the world.  
Yes, growing up the daughter of a famous magizoologist and an auror made for an interesting childhood, but Leona Scamander wouldn’t have changed it for the world. Right this moment however, she wished for a different surname. Any other surname would do.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope this will be multi-chaptered, but it won't be a bit thing


End file.
